


Bonds and Boundaries

by cookinguptales



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: M/M, Pining, Pre-Despair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:24:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7180088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cookinguptales/pseuds/cookinguptales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Admittedly Ishimaru doesn't have that much experience with this whole friendship thing, but Oowada seems awfully... touchy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bonds and Boundaries

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet written for the (sort of) anon prompt "Absent/Casual touching". Shorter than I'd usually post on AO3, but I think this pairing needs more love on here. It's my first time writing for DR, so I hope it's okay!

“Oi, kyoudai, take a look at this,” Oowada said, sliding a magazine across Kiyotaka’s desk.

Kiyotaka did his best to focus on the article he was being shown (after all, it was important to exhibit interest in friends’ hobbies) but it wasn’t easy, not with the way Oowada was absently hovering over his shoulder. He could feel the heat of him when he stood so close like that, and it was even worse when Oowada let his hand rest against the small of Kiyotaka’s back.

Maybe it was just because Kiyotaka wasn’t exactly experienced when it came to friendship, but Oowada seemed awfully touchy to him. He was always nudging Kiyotaka’s hip with his own, or brushing stray flower petals from his hair, or stroking the meat of Kiyotaka’s palms with his thumbs when he took papers from him, and it was--well, it was very strange. Kiyotaka wasn’t very used to being touched by his classmates, after all. But his relationship with Oowada had always been very physical, hadn’t it? From the very beginning, they’d been up in each other’s faces, breathing in each other’s air and aggression and hurt feelings, and tussling in the hallways like a pair of common miscreants. When things had abruptly changed, though, when Oowada had become his lifeblood rather than the thorn bleeding it away, it had felt like a natural transition to touch him with tenderness instead of anger. So was it really such a surprise that Oowada was able to throw an arm around his shoulder and tug him close just as easily as he’d once been able to throw a punch into his gut?

Besides. Besides, he told himself. Oowada was part of that gang, wasn’t he? Gang members were always going on about brotherhood and the manly bonds of friendship, which was a thing that Kiyotaka could certainly appreciate himself. Oowada was probably just as free with his affections with the other members of his gang. He probably touched them all the time, too. But for some reason, that didn’t make him feel any better.

Because, and this was the important part, Oowada’s casual touching, the hugs and the leaning and the way Oowada would hold his hand tight when he was dragging him off to do something completely inappropriate for upright citizens such as themselves, none of that felt remotely casual to Kiyotaka. He was always intimately aware of Oowada’s skin where it touched his, and the heat, the _heat,_ the heat in his cheeks and his gut and the way his skin would feel scorched beneath Oowada’s rough fingers, that all felt worryingly serious.

Which wasn’t how Oowada meant it at all, he was sure. He’d probably think it was weird, the way that Kiyotaka’s stomach flipped every time Oowada leaned in close and snuffled into his neck, and the way that Kiyotaka ached for more every time Oowada held him close. He wanted to touch Oowada all the time now, and if he was ever foolish enough to let his mind wander too far down that path, he would start thinking about touching places that he never should have been thinking about, not like that. And he’d start thinking about touching them with things other than his fingers.

It didn’t feel very friendly. It felt a lot more like being consumed by a ravenous fire, and wanting to do some consuming of his own.

Kiyotaka’s stomach sank a little bit even as he shivered beneath Oowada’s loose embrace. He really was terrible at this whole friendship thing. Even with Oowada, the one person he felt that he could be himself with, he still couldn’t manage to get even this one simple thing right. In fact--

“Kyoudai?” Oowada asked. “You feelin’ okay?”

Kiyotaka started, and he had a feeling he might have been blushing again. Oowada had given him hell for it last time, so he really hoped not. “Ah! Yes, kyoudai! I’m doing very well, thank you!” he said, and finally, finally managed to turn his attention to the magazine Oowada had laid in front of him. “It’s a very fine machine!”

Oowada shifted his hand upward so he could run his thumb down along the curve of Kiyotaka’s neck and made some kind of thoughtful noise. Kiyotaka couldn’t really interpret it well, not with the way his insides had gone to slick putty, but it sounded vaguely accepting so that was all right. “If you say so.” And then his hands were gone, both of them, and Kiyotaka almost whimpered at the loss. “Now this bike, this one’s a fucking amazing ride…”

Kiyotaka bit at his bottom lip and forced himself to focus on what Oowada was saying instead of how close he was standing. He didn’t have much experience with this kind of thing, true, but for Oowada, he would try his absolute best.


End file.
